


Shelter

by katsukii



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: M/M, jewelshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukii/pseuds/katsukii
Summary: Chazz is afraid of letting his guard down; Jesse isn't. Based on the prompt "I think I love you."
Relationships: Johan Andersen | Jesse Anderson/Manjoume Jun | Chazz Princeton
Kudos: 26





	Shelter

“I think I love you.”

It’s television static more than it’s a statement.

If he’d heard it, perhaps Chazz wouldn’t be humming in agreement so readily. He’d be fumbling for words, tongue tripping over itself in an embarrassing show of stammering “ _what_ ” and “ _why_ ,” because, clearly, anyone saying such a thing regarding him and his abrasive personality is preposterous. Unthinkable. _Impossible_. It’s no secret he has low expectations for his romantic life. In his experience, he drives everyone away - friend or foe - and those who are still around just haven’t gotten the worst of it yet. Soon, they’ll all be gone, and he will wind up very much alone. And his brothers will laugh at him, scold him for being so harsh when they themselves are little different. They will tease him endlessly, dub him a living failure - what, Chazz, you can’t even make friends with someone as airheaded as Jaden Yuki? And he’ll put up with it, of course, because older brothers are supposed to be a pain in the ass, and he’s used to it, used to the teasing and the crushing loneliness. It’s unbearable but survivable; excruciating yet dull. And if he’d heard it, he wouldn’t have agreed, would he? He’d have messed it all up and wound up alone.

But he didn’t hear it. So Chazz, none the wiser, breathes a nasally sigh and reclines into the creaking four-wheeled chair in the Slifer dorm, elbows pointed skyward, hands folded neatly behind his head. He wears something akin to a smile, but his body doesn’t really feel the endorphins that should be there. This does not worry him. This is normal. He wears a smile not to feel happy, but to present himself as happy so others do not try to delve into his business - are you alright, Chazz, why do you look so sad, Chazz? And as forced as it is, still, it works. He isn’t questioned.

Much.

His disguise is not so easily seen through, but for someone who knows the ins and outs of the persona that is Chazz Princeton, his behavior is questionable. There are tics - the head tilt, the pursing of his lips, the tapping of lithe fingers on whatever surface is closest by. And there’s the emptiness in his eyes. Eyes with a shine that once used to light up a room, now reduced to the dull glimmer of a dusty mirror. No one really knew when it happened, when dueling lost its passion, when everyday life became a chore and the great Chazz Princeton would rather skip class and sleep all day than to have the chance to prove himself to the world. But it happened all the same. Those eyes became hollow to the world. And as much as he wishes, it isn’t invisible. Not to everyone.

Not to Jesse Anderson.

He notices everything. He’s smarter than Chazz gives him credit for - which isn’t much. While it isn’t surprising, Jesse is almost grateful for it. It means he’s always full of surprises, catching on to all the little things Chazz does and shocking him when he brings them up. Constantly, it’s, how did you see that, Anderson, why do you know that, Anderson? What do you mean I scrunch my nose when I’m building a new deck?

It’s cute.

So Jesse, paying acutely close attention to Chazz’s odd behavior, decides to open the conversation with something simple. “Why the sigh, Princeton?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry. Chazz.”

He scoffs, rolls his eyes. Bold of Jesse to assume he wouldn’t get mad at being addressed by his last name.

“For your information, I didn’t sigh. I just exhaled loudly.”

“Oh. Sure. My bad.” Jesse grins lopsidedly, scratches the back of his neck. Chazz is doing the thing where he avoids eye contact even though he knows he’s being looked at, not to mention he’s also fiddling with his sleeves - something he does when he’s nervous or lying. Jesse’s eyes narrow just the slightest bit. What is he being secretive about? Did he hear him? Is he disappointed?

Jesse stomach drops. _Oh, shit._

But he plays it cool. On the off-chance Chazz _did_ hear him, he’s being surprisingly polite for someone who isn’t interested. Which means one of two things: either Chazz is contemplating his own feelings and is too proud to say anything, or Chazz is so completely uninterested that he doesn’t even have the energy to poke fun at Jesse for saying something so stupid.

He dearly hopes it isn’t the latter.

“You doin’ alright, partner?” Jesse asks, trying his best to pick his words with care. He wants to prompt Chazz into opening up, but he can’t do it in a way that isn’t casual. He can’t be too overbearing, can’t come off too strong, or Chazz will recede back behind the walls he has so meticulously built. It’s a guessing game - what’s too much? What’s just enough?

Chazz flicks his hollow eyes to Jesse, scans his face. Just an innocent, stupid smile.

“I’m fine,” he replies, trying to suppress a glare. There’s no need, he tells himself. Don’t drive this one away.

“You look awful glum. Is there anything I can help with?”

“You can help by shutting up.” _Shit._

“Aw, Chazz, don’t be like that. I’m just lookin’ out for ya.”

It’s true, and Chazz knows it. In the time that he has gotten to know Jesse Anderson, he has had a considerably less crappy time with his life. After meeting Jesse, he resumed going to classes, resumed dueling, resumed eating and sleeping at normal intervals. He opened up about the things that were dragging him down, opened up about his stupid brothers and his fear of failure and his desire to be the best just to get some recognition for once. And through it all, stalwart by his side, he had Jesse to rely on as a… a friend. He has always been watched over, always been protected by someone who never once saw the bad in him. When other Blue students talked about Chazz, there was Jesse, jumping to his defense and swearing he would win in a duel against them to shut them up.

Chazz doesn’t deserve it.

“Look. I’m… sorry,” Chazz strains, face contorting painfully as he chokes out the apology. His fingers curl around his sleeves so tightly his knuckles flush white. “That was uncalled for. You’re just trying to help. So… thanks. I guess.”

Jesse’s face softens, heart lifts. Maybe Chazz doesn’t hate him after all. Or maybe he never heard him to begin with. “No problem.”

There’s a spell of silence, and Jesse is contemplating saying those five terrifying words again when Chazz breaks the stillness.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot, partner.” Jesse mimes finger guns.

“Do you think I push everyone away?”

Jesse thinks. “Well, yes, and no. I think you want to push everyone away so you seem tough, but in reality you don’t wanna be alone. But you’re so scared of seeming vulnerable that you just _gotta_ push everyone away. So when it’s all said an’ done, you end up alone, and you resent yourself for it.”

Chazz blinks, rapid. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. He knows he undermines Jesse’s intelligence, but he didn’t know he was underestimating his ability to read people too. It’s impressive, not to mention spot on, and Chazz shudders. It’s like getting his palm read or his fortune told. Just plain creepy.

“So. What should I do?” he asks, shifting his arms so they are folded over his chest. He feels the need to cover himself up, as if on the defensive.

“Try letting go of the walls you’re so desperately clingin’ to. It’s gonna be hard, don’t get me wrong, but I think you’ll find bein’ vulnerable with the right people ain’t so bad.”

“And how do I know who the right people are?”

Jesse shrugs. “It’s just in your heart, I guess. That’s how it is for me.”

Chazz chews his lower lip. “So… what if I know who the right people are. And I’m still too scared - not _scared_ , I mean, just, uh, I don’t _trust_ them fully - to say anything?”

“Well, then, that’s when you take that leap of faith. And if you fall, you’re not alone. I’ll catch ya, I promise.” Jesse offers a smile, draws his knees up to his chest and hugs them close. The television beside him is still producing static. Chazz wishes it would be quiet.

He swallows a lump in his throat. “Hey, Jesse?”

Jesse’s heart quickens. Something about Chazz’s tone makes him feel antsy, but he does his best to keep his tone steady. “Yeah?”

“I want you to take a leap of faith too. What did you whisper earlier?”

Chazz’s eyes glimmer, and for a split second they don’t seem so empty. There’s something there - curiosity. Now it’s Jesse’s turn to fend off the nervous lump in his throat. Leap of faith, he thinks. It sure is.

He smiles sheepishly, crosses his fingers for luck. _Here goes nothin.’_ “I said… that I think I love you, pard.”

And just like that, he’s descending through the air, clouds rushing by, birds calling, airplanes whirring somewhere far above. The wind ruffles his hair, stings his eyes. It’s hard to breathe, but every breath feels like it’s the first he’s ever taken, so fresh and crisp that his lungs barely know what to do with oxygen this pure. He’s falling, falling, the ledge high above him, still bearing the footprints from when he ran and threw himself into the sky. This is his leap of faith.

All he hears is the television static. He closes his eyes and smiles. The words are hanging in the air around his head, suspended, and he feels free.

He doesn’t deign to open his eyes, but he can hear the beginning of a smile on Chazz’s lips when he speaks. “You’re stupid.”

“Maybe so. Ain’t a problem for me though.”

Chazz shakes his head. He has his own leap of faith to take. So he steels himself, draws a long, bated breath, and lets the oxygen circulate before he sighs. He has to do this. It’s only fair.

When he closes his eyes, he’s on a rocky outcropping extending far into a sea of clouds. Above him, the moon shines, stars wink in and out of existence. The ground is illuminated by a pale light, revealing footprints that are at least a size bigger than his own, racing towards the edge. Chazz follows them slowly, stepping in each. One after the other. Two, three. Almost there.

But he panics. He backs up, kicks dust over the footprints that came before him. He doesn’t want to do this. He clutches his shaking hands close to his chest as his breaths come fast and heavy, breath crystalizing in the air before him. He is alone, and he doesn’t want to be anymore, but alone is safe, and safe is all he has ever known. Chazz will admit it to himself, here and now - he is scared of change. Scared of being hurt. Scared of falling. So he backs up, retreats until he can’t anymore. His back collides with the familiar rough surface of a brick wall, built so high he can’t see the top, and he recognizes it as his own, the very selfsame wall that protected him all these years. And now he’s trapped, trapped outside of his comfort zone, stuck on the ledge with nowhere left to go.

He wants to cry. But he can’t.

The air is so dry that tears won’t come, so he opens his mouth to scream, but the sound is stolen from him by the wind. He sees the words carried away into the clouds, each letter looping around one another, spelling ‘help me, help, help, help.’ He feels robbed. He feels stuck. He feels terrified.

“Chazz?”

Jesse’s voice is there, manifesting in the clouds as a soft light. Chazz wants to reach out to it, but it’s so far away. It’s in the sky, just beyond the ledge, floating, taunting him - no, _beckoning_ him, telling him it’s alright, that he’s safe. He remembers Jesse saying he’d catch him if he fell, and he wants to believe it.

He has to believe it.

Chazz closes his eyes and runs.

He feels his feet leave the ground and suddenly the world explodes into icy clarity around him, sharp, intense, horrifying. His eyes burn, his mouth feels parched, his lungs shrivel. And the words leave his throat in a strained, helpless voice:

“I think I love you, too?”

It sounds like a question. It isn’t meant to be.

And as the cold air rushes around him, sinks long fangs into his skin, he begins to understand. The cold becomes warm, the hail of teeth becomes a soft ache, his lungs swell with the breaths of fresh, untainted air. So this is letting go.

“I think I love you,” he says again, and he sounds more sure of himself. Maybe he does love Jesse. Maybe he does love the way he smiles or the sound of his tired laugh or the way he slides around the dorm room in his fuzzy socks. Maybe he loves how Jesse loves him. Maybe. Just maybe.

He’s falling, and he doesn’t care. The walls are so far above him now that he can barely glimpse them, and he laughs aloud as they disappear from sight. Good riddance, he thinks, and just when his heart lurches and his mind begins to tell him that he _needs_ those walls, he feels strong arms encircling his chest, pulling him into warmth, into safety.

He opens his eyes, and Jesse is there, holding him, face buried into his shoulder.

“Jesse,” he mumbles, and the other duelist whimpers in response. “Are... are you okay?”

“I-I’m in hog heaven right now, Chazz! I’m so happy I - think I’m gonna cry, so just - let me stay here a moment longer, okay?”

“Fine. Idiot,” he teases, bringing a hand up to play with Jesse’s messy hair. It’s much softer than he anticipated, obviously well-managed. He smiles, and the endorphins rush. Finally.

“What now?” Jesse asks in between stifled sobs. “I mean - if you’re serious, then-”

“Guess.”

“Guess what?” Jesse lifts his head, stares straight into Chazz’s shining eyes.

“We’re dating now. Suck it up.” And Chazz’s smile grows wider, eyes crinkle at the corners.

Jesse laughs, wholeheartedly, and takes hold of Chazz’s left hand. “So there you are,” he whispers, clutching his hand tight. “Welcome back.”

“Shut up.”

“Never, pard.”

“I hate you.”

Jesse smiles, knocks their foreheads together as he leans forward to brush noses with Chazz. “I hate you, too.”

Chazz snorts, interlaces his fingers with Jesse's. So maybe he doesn't hate him much. Or at all. And loathe as he is to admit it, Jesse was right - taking a leap of faith for the right person is worth it.

So very worth it.


End file.
